Northern Transplant Meets Red Clay

Once again I am in transition from one reality to another. From Vermont I have traveled South for hospitality, vitality, and dumplings. From deep brown soils to bright red clays, I know there is much to learn about my new home. I've been roaming the city streets of Atlanta for about 6 months and I am finally moving back into the quiet spaces of the natural world. While I have valued the lessons learned on the bustling speedways of the city and the lessons spread,


I know that my roots dig deepest in lands where the bees are the busiest and trees teach the value of patience.

I am moving onto the Glover Family Farm owned by Skip and Cookie Glover. They have spent most of their lives educating youth about the importance of growing food organically and have been instrumental in building the food movements that exist in Atlanta today. The other farmer that works out his passions over the land is the young, Joe Reynolds from Love is Love Farm. His sweetheart, Judith Winfrey, is a peaceful warrior for healthy food and heads up Slow Food Atlanta. They lease land from Skip and have developed a following of individuals eager to receive their CSA shares throughout the season. Both farmers are gifted stewards of the landscape and I am more than grateful to contribute to their efforts and ultimately continue to learn from them.

We've packed up our few possessions, our dogs (Bell and Forest),


and our inspiration and moved them into our camper turned homestead. We're looking forward to working with vegetables, bee hives, goats, chickens, and hungry people. My love, Elliot Smith,


will be spending his days sharing his talents with Skip and Joe growing produce and hopefully picking up more tips on how to grow holistically and heal burdened soils. I hope to spend much of my time doing similar things, along with working on my writing endeavors and my food related projects focused on helping the less fortunate Atlanta communities (stay tuned for more details.)

We consider ourselves new wave nomads and this next adventure in our lives will certainly be full of experiences that will deepen our love for the Earth and its gifts. Balancing our connections from the boonies to the city will give us new perspectives and help us relate to the people who will be sustained on our food. Our first projects include: getting away from the media and tv, the spring growing season, developing a good pastured chicken rotation, locating some goat breeders, becoming seed saving experts, and reconnecting to that sweet, simple life.

If you live in the ATL and care about food; we'll be seeing you soon.

Hey, I'm No Expert.

I have found through my own experiences that the hardest thing in the world to do, especially in public, is to admit you are wrong or don't know something. The hunger to be ever-aware, always on top, dominates our emotional and instinctual selves. Through the advent of science, we have labeled consistency as truth and from that day forward we have been placing experiences, phenomenon, life, civilization, creatures, matter, people and so on into boxes whose identity is constructed by us. This makes the idea of not knowing something seem pretty daunting.

The problem that this poses on a society whose information comes from experts in science and scientific law, who know everything there is to know about one particular thing, is not only the lack of holistic approaches to problems, but also the incorporation of biases and agendas. Someone might know that a certain approach works for keeping pests away from your garden vegetables, but being an expert in pesticides does not make you an expert on pests.

Our species has become too centered on creating individuals who are experts in overly specific fields of study. I feel strongly that it is time to start removing ourselves from the over-specialization of our insatiable society and start awarding ourselves honorary degrees in generalism. I think it is time to become hobbyists in tribal knowledge. If you have illnesses or children with them, don't just let the doctor be the expert, teach yourself about healing using herbal remedies and food. If you like eating delicious meals, teach yourself to grow and cook. If you eat dairy products, get an animal and care for it, milk it, make cheese. Make clothing. A trouble tree in your yard? Pick up a book and learn proper axe technique. Build something from the wood.

Turn off the tv, step away from the computer, and download some free information and skill-sets from your arms and legs. Investigate deeply into the world of self sufficiency and learn to distrust anyone claiming to be an expert.

One of the most inspiring days of my life has come from openly admitting that there are things about this world I may never claim to know. Even within our educational systems we are rhythmically pressured into believing that learning equals knowing. For the most part, I would say, learning equals understanding and that knowing truly isn't that important. What is important in my life is what I can do with my two hands to care for myself, those I love, and this world.

Taking Root

It's the beginning all over again.

A wild relative, in agriculture and the vast wilderness beyond, refers to a plant that shares genetic material with a fruit, herb, or vegetable commonly used by humans. They are plants that can be found growing naturally that produce edibles and live in symbiotic relationships with other naturally occurring vegetation. They are a beautiful reminder that resources are an abundant gift of nature and they serve as protectors of biodiversity.

As human beings, we spend a lot of our time altering things to meet our specific needs. We want our crops to be predictable, identical, to produce a bountiful harvest, to thrive in conditions that are easy to maintain. Our drive to control everything around us stems from a desire to create an environment that is beneficial for our friends, family, and children.

While I understand and sympathize with many of the goals of our civilization, I think in some respects our disconnect with nature is harmful to our planet and to our own species. I will use this medium to extend stories of hope in a world that is owned by dollars and cents. I will share stories of my experiences, beliefs, and of the people right here in Georgia constructing change every single day.

As a warning, I am too young to "know" anything, and I am always learning. I am passionate and opinionated. I am full of love to the point of idealism. I am hairy, dirty, and smelly. I have an overwhelming sense of hope that sprouts from Atlanta's newest moves towards a greener lifestyle. I am a newbie to the South and I have proud Northern roots.

I hope you join me, this is going to be a long trip.